Scary Monsters
by CycloneT
Summary: An intruder breaks into Monica’s apartment just when she is at her most vulnerable. [DoggettReyes]


Title: Scary Monsters  
Author: Tracy  
Category: H, V, DRF  
Rating: PG   
Summary: An intruder breaks into Monica's apartment just when she is at her most vulnerable.  
  
XxX  
  
John turned to her with an apprehensive look in his eyes and a wheedling tone in his voice.  
"We're not going to talk about this, are we? Mon?"  
  
XxX  
  
One week earlier.  
  
Monica sighed into the phone. "No, John, I have no idea how they extract the caffeine from coffee or coke to make it caffeine free. It's a big gigantic mystery to me."  
  
"But it's interesting, don't you think? Why drink coffee if you don't want the caffeine boost? And as for all the coke flavours that are out there right now –"  
  
"Does this ramble of yours have an actual point?" she interrupted.  
  
"No, not particularly. Where are you, anyway? I can hear an echo."  
  
She thought quickly as she tried to come up with a plausible lie. "I'm in the bathroom. I'm. . .er. . .scrubbing the tub."  
  
"You're scrubbing the tub on a Saturday night? You wild woman. Now I don't feel like such a loser for discussing the finer points of a caffeine free existence."  
  
"It needs to be done," Monica replied, sinking further down into the bubbles with a sigh of wanton delight. "Anyway, why *are* you discussing the finer points of a caffeine free existence?"  
  
John shrugged. "'Cause I'm bored. Thought maybe I could tempt you into a movie or something."  
  
She closed her eyes and revelled in the warmth of the water around her skin. "I'm a little busy at the moment."  
  
"You're cleaning your bathroom," John said flatly. "You can put it off until tomorrow."  
  
"I've already started. I can't walk out the door and leave it half done."  
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Because . . .I just can't, that's all."   
  
"Well, how long will it take you to finish it?" he asked impatiently.  
  
She tried to muffle the phone as a soft groan escaped her lips. "Oh, about an hour."  
  
"An hour?"  
  
"At least," she replied dreamily.  
  
"What if I come over there and help you?"  
  
John was a little insulted as her laughter pealed down the phone. "It's not like I've never cleaned before," he defended.  
  
She only laughed louder.   
  
"Look, Mon, do you want my help or not?"  
  
"I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. "It's just – the possibilities are endless."  
  
"What are you talking about? I grab a cloth, I soap it up, and you tell me what to start sponging. Where are the possibilities?"  
  
"Stop, please," she begged, wiping the tears from her eyes.   
  
There was silence from his end of the phone as he listened to her continued laughter. "Why do I get the feeling that something more than cleaning is going on there?" he finally asked suspiciously.  
  
This only set her off again. "J-ohn, you're k – k- illing me!"   
  
"Do you want me to come over or not?" He really wanted to know what was going on over there.  
  
Monica managed to calm down sufficiently enough to reply. He could still hear the amusement in her tone, but at least she had stopped laughing at him. "Sure, come on over. I'm not much in the mood for – er – scrubbing the tub now anyway."  
  
"I'll be there in –" John stopped, as a bloodcurdling scream echoed down the phone.  
  
"Mon? You okay?"  
  
"Stop right there. Don't come any closer," he heard.  
  
"MONICA!" he shouted, already on his feet looking for his car keys.  
  
"I'm warning you, I'm an FBI agent."  
  
She sounded terrified. Absolutely terrified. "Just hold on, I'm on my way."  
  
He finally found his keys, and rushed for the door. "You hear me, Mon? I'll be right there."  
  
There was nothing. "Monica?" His gut clenched and his blood froze. The phone had been disconnected.   
  
XxX  
  
At Monica's.  
  
He was just looking at her.   
  
"Stop right there," she warned.  
  
He took a step towards her.   
  
"Don't come any closer."  
  
He didn't listen. He inched his way, step by step, nearer to her. She scrambled into a sitting position and made a grab for the towel.  
  
Another step. She was starting to feel very panicked now. "I'm warning you, I'm an FBI agent."   
  
He ignored her. She was vaguely aware that John was shouting something at her, but all her attention was focused on the intruder. She could feel bubbles of hysteria threatening to overcome her, and knew she had to get out. She saw an opportunity to make her move, and she took it. She leapt from the tub, dropping the phone into the water in the process, and ran, naked and dripping, from the room.  
  
XxX  
  
John sped along the streets, taking risks that he normally wouldn't take in his haste to get to Monica. He'd already called local law enforcement to attend, but with the way he was driving he thought he had a pretty good chance of arriving at the scene before them. A lump began to form in his throat. The scene – he didn't even want to think about what kind of scene he'd be running into.  
  
XxX  
  
Monica had managed to find a blanket to wrap around her nakedness when John burst in the front door, gun raised and murder in his eyes. He did a quick scan of the apartment and yelled, "Where is he?"  
  
She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and pointed towards the bathroom. "In there."  
  
"Stay here," he ordered. He walked cautiously towards the open door of the bathroom, aware on some level that the smell of incense and steam rolling around the ceiling didn't quite add up. His foot splashed in a puddle of water as he stepped over the threshold. At about this time his eyes noted the tub of bubbles, the candles strewn around the room, and the fact that there was no one else in there besides him. He walked back out to the lounge room, where Monica was huddled on the couch. Beads of water slid down the length of her hair, pooling on the back of the couch. "He's gone."  
  
"You sure?" she gulped.   
  
"There's no one in there." He paced around the apartment, checking the kitchen, bedrooms and hallway. "Could he have left?"  
  
"I – I didn't see him leave. You're sure he's not still in the bathroom?"  
  
"Yeah. It's empty."  
  
The look on her face said that she clearly didn't believe him. He held his hand out and pulled her off the couch, being very careful not to disturb the tenuously positioned blanket. "C'mon, I'll show you."  
  
Monica huddled into his side as he led her back towards the bathroom. He concentrated extremely hard to ignore the trembling of her very warm, very soft body. John flicked on the light and turned to her reassuringly. "See, no one in here. Whoever it was is gone now."  
  
"Are you blind?" she screamed. "He's right there. Shoot him, John! *Shoot* him!"  
  
He looked around the room once more, seeing no one. "Mon, it's an empty room. No one here but you and me."  
  
"But –"  
  
"You've had a nasty shock," he placated, "but it's over now. He didn't hurt you did he?" She shook her head and he continued. "He just scared you. You'll be okay now that he's gone."  
  
"But he's right there," she said through clenched teeth, and pointed to the far wall facing the tub.  
  
John untangled himself from her arms as he finally spotted the intruder. "For crying out loud," he muttered, shooting a disparaging glance back at his partner. He crept towards the wall, looking for some kind of weapon to do battle. Not finding any, he slipped off one of his shoes and brought it down heavily on the fat pulsating body of the hairy spider. Monica screamed again and jumped backwards as green spider guts sprayed all over her clean tiles.   
  
"Aw crap," he swore, as the faint wail of police sirens drew steadily closer.  
  
XxX  
  
One week later.  
  
Monica was humming as she made her way into the office. John had promised there would be no more plastic spiders planted on her desk, in her files, or underneath the lids in the ladies toilets. He'd also promised to stop singing, "Eensy Weensy Spider" every time he thought he was being clever. Unfortunately, that was at least five times an hour. But she had high hopes that it was finally out of his system. Which was why when she entered the office she was surprised to find him standing on his desk, eyes wide and looking edgily around the room.  
  
"John, you promised," she accused, her good mood suddenly deflating.  
  
"Are you insane?" he screeched at her. "Get off the floor. It's out there."  
  
"What's out there?"  
  
"A – er – rat. A big, no, a huge disease carrying rat."  
  
Monica searched the room, paying attention to all the darkened nooks and crannies where it could hide. She finally caught a blur of movement out of the corner of her eyes.   
  
"That's not a rat," she beamed at her mortified partner. "It's a little white mouse." And then she laughed.  
  
There was an injured silence from the safety of the top of the desk. She muffled her laughter and said soothingly, "I'll go down to maintenance and find a mouse trap."  
  
John turned to her with an apprehensive look in his eyes and a wheedling tone in his voice.  
"We're not going to talk about this, are we? Mon?"  
  
"No, not at all, John," she replied with a straight face. Then she left the room singing, 'Three Blind Mice."  
  
End.  
  
Notes: I can't believe I wrote a spider fic! Ewww! But I had a real life spider situation that I based this story on, and then Traci just had to go and provide me with a delicious visual to accompany it. But at least it was in no way as scary as any of Anna's spider fics. ;) If you want to see the monster I battled for 20 minutes to kill, go here.   
Creepy, isn't he? *shudders* 


End file.
